


Sans Regrets

by darthenna



Series: Chelsea-Liverpool Challenge [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Chelsea FC, Gen, Liverpool, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthenna/pseuds/darthenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando doesn't regret anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sans Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after the latest Chelsea-Liverpool game as a challenge for myself. I had different scenarios for different outcomes of the match. Chelsea wins, Fernando doesn't score/doesn't play ended with this angsty ficlet. I intend to write other ficlets too after each Chelsea-Liverpool match, that's why I posted this as a part of series.

It shouldn't be a surprise not to find his name in the starting eleven, but it still is. Fernando doesn't even know if he should be upset or relieved. He opts for being upset, because he wants to play, even if it's against Liverpool. But instead Samuel is going to start and Fernando's going to sit on the bench. Just another match on the bench. But it isn't just another match. It's Liverpool, the club which should have long ago become just another rival for Fernando, but which will never be. He tries to be professional about being left out, but disappointment is apparently written all over his face, because Mourinho pats him on the shoulder, when he goes out after announcing the formation. 

If he were in Liverpool, he would have started. He buries the thought deep, but it keeps resurfacing.

~~~

The Liverpool players don't pay any attention to him. Not like they were supposed to, no one exchanges pleasantries with the rivals before the match, right? But they don't even spare him a glance. As if he doesn't exist. Another thing he shouldn't have been surprised at. Daniel hates him, Pepe is in Italy, and Stevie isn't here. Fernando wishes he were. He was terribly disappointed, when it was clear Stevie wouldn't be able to play against Chelsea. Fernando was looking forward to seeing him. He sees Stevie or talks to him only during these matches. Stevie never calls him. Fernando doesn't expect him to. Stevie doesn't hate him, but he doesn't like him either. Not anymore.

Fernando feels his eyes burn and rubs them angrily. He opens them just in time to see Martin score. Fernando knows he should feel bad for his team, but he can't bring himself to care. He's tired of keeping himself motivated. At least not now. Not when Liverpool is playing and he's sitting on the bench. He wishes Samuel would get injured, so he would be able to play. Hates himself for it. 

Mourinho doesn't sulk for long, because Eden soon scores with a shot so beautiful, that Fernando can't even bring himself to envy that it wasn't him who did that. He remembers how his heart exploded with happiness, when Stevie scored goals like this. Fernando was always the first to hug him. Stevie kissed him. Pressed his lips to Fernando's temple or to his cheek or to his neck. 

Fernando feels his stomach flutter and his eyes burn again. He tries to bury the thoughts about Stevie too, but he fails as usual.

~~~

Samuel scores. Fernando barely keeps himself from letting out a loud and bitter laugh. This is why he starts and you don't, he thinks, because he takes his chance, because he doesn't let the coach down. He scores, you don't. It's that simple.

He doesn't even pretend he's happy for the goal. Weird that he left Liverpool three years ago, but a ball in the Reds' net is to some extent a goal in Fernando's net. Samuel scored, he will start the next match. Then he will score again. And again. He will start every match, while Fernando will be warming up the bench. Everyone will forget about his existence, even his own teammates and fans. Just like Liverpool has forgotten. Just like Stevie has forgotten. 

Sometimes Fernando wishes he could turn back the time. But then he understands that he doesn't know what he would do if he could. Maybe he wouldn't go to Chelsea. Maybe he wouldn't leave Liverpool. Wouldn't leave Stevie. He doesn't know. He won the Champions League here after all. But sometimes he thinks he would exchange it with those times when he was young and happy, when he loved and was loved. 

He pushes the thought away. He's happy at Chelsea too. He is. He has to be happy. He shouldn't regret anything.

~~~

Fernando knows Mourinho won't let him to the pitch after the first half, but he still hopes. It's the same irrational hope he has when he's looking around attentively while walking on the streets, thinking what if he meets Stevie. He never does.

He's nervous during the second half. The likelihood he will get to play is little. They are winning and don't need more strikers on the pitch. He wishes Liverpool would score, hates himself more. 

Minutes go by and Chelsea are still a goal ahead. Fernando isn't following the match anymore. His mind is wandering far away. He lets himself pretend he's sitting on the Liverpool bench, he's just returned after an injury and that's why he's not playing. They're losing and Stevie will be heartbroken. He always takes it harder, when they lose to Chelsea. Fernando will have to take care of him after the match if Stevie lets him. Usually he's so moody after defeats, even moodier than Fernando. 

The number nine shines on the board and Fernando snaps out of his fairy tale. It's a substitution for Liverpool and for a split of second Fernando is ready to jump out of his seat. But then he sees another player in red uniform and with the number nine on his back. Fernando feels a sudden surge of hatred towards the guy. It's _his_ uniform, it's _his_ number. Then he shakes his head. It was also _his_ choice to leave it all behind, _his_ decision, _his_ desire. If only he knew then how much he was giving up... 

Fernando pinches his arm. Again he's thinking about what he shouldn't think. He regrets nothing. He should repeat it in his head more often to push the other thoughts away.

~~~

Four minutes till the end of the match Samuel gets injured. It leaves Fernando with a bitter taste in his mouth, because it was him who had wished it upon his teammate. The few minutes Mourinho grants him are almost humiliating, but it's the most he's got to prove himself.

And he tries, by God, he tries. When he dribbles past Glen and reaches the area, he almost believes that he will score. Believes he will prove himself, will make everyone happy and then Stevie will call and tell him how proud he is. Of course it doesn't happen. Things never happen the way Fernando wants them to. It's the high time to accept it. He's finished, done for. Stevie will never forgive him and he can't turn back the time. 

His strengths leave him at the final whistle. He feels like he's played for two hours instead of eight minutes. He wants to approach the Liverpool players, his ex friends, but something doesn't let him. He doesn't know what he should tell them. If Stevie were here, he would approach Fernando first. It would probably be out of pity, but Fernando has reached a point, when he would accept even that. 

He trails to the changing room after his jubilant teammates. He hates himself for not being able to join their celebrations. He almost feels like he should be in the other changing room now, mourning the loss. He almost _wants_ to be there.

~~~

Fernando goes right home after the match, slumps into an armchair and sits like that for hours staring at the muted TV. His eyes are burning again, but this time he doesn't rub them and soon something starts burning his cheeks too. If Stevie were here, he would laugh at first, then shake his head and pull Fernando closer to his chest.

Fernando's hand reaches his phone almost unconsciously. But he's in his right mind, when he presses the call button. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, but he's determined. He's going to talk to Stevie, to tell him how much he needs him, how much he misses him, misses Liverpool. He will tell him how sorry he is, how much he's hurting without him. He will even admit that he's made a mistake, that he regrets it. He will tell Stevie anything he wants to hear. 

Fernando waits and waits for Stevie to pick up his phone. His hands are trembling, his breath is hitching. He waits. 

His throat can't stop constricting, his heartbeat doesn't slow down, his eyes don't stop burning. He waits. 

He falls asleep sitting on the armchair, the phone still lying on his palm, tearstains visible on his cheeks. His sleep isn't peaceful. He's twitching and tossing, still clutching the phone in his hand. Waiting. 

Even sleeping he presses the call button again. The phone slides out of his hand and falls on the carpet with a soft thud. The dial tone goes on for minutes. Stevie doesn't answer.


End file.
